A Not So Wonderful Life
by sweetdeanalive
Summary: Dean Winchester has had enough. He didn't choose this life. With all of it piling up higher and higher- burying him with it- there seems to be only one choice. However his life is worth a lot more than he thinks when divine intervention shows how loved he really is. It's a Wonderful Life AU, Destiel
1. Chapter 1

I sort of feel like this first bit of me actually talking is just me trying to explain myself for some reason but here goes! I came up with the idea for this fic a couple of weeks ago whilst looking through various classic American movies. From the title, (hopefully!) you can see that the movie that inspired me was I_t's a Wonderful Life. _Although at first I thought this might be more suited as a Christmas fic, I saw so many parallels between the show and the film that I couldn't help myself! I must say that this is my first foray into the world of publishing my fanfics on the website, so please excuse any spelling errors I could have missed because I was distracted quite a bit whilst trying to get used to actually getting this online! Anyway, most of you have probably skipped this bit by now so I shall leave you with my story. It starts of largely like the film does.

Enjoy xx

(I don't own any of the characters or anything cw or film related)

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

Staring into his beer glass wasn't unknown to Dean Winchester- especially in the Roadhouse. Many a time he had come here after a failed conquest or another crushing blow to his personal life. Except, before, there had always been a glimmer of hope that stared right back at him. Not today, it seemed. So, not for the first time in his 34 years, he prayed. A silent prayer, unnoticed by his fellow drunkards that surrounded him. Letting out a small sigh, he stumbled towards the door.

Out in the cold, harsh, December weather, he reached into his father's old leather jacket. Inside he found his keys to his beloved impact. A small sad smile graced his face for a moment before it returned to its previous steel. At this point, even his Impala (or 'Baby- depending on his mood) wasn't enough to brighten his outlook.

Inside the car, he glances at the wing mirror to see the now messy back seats. It was a compromise. The only way he could've kept this (awesome) car was if he promised that he'd let the kids come in. Otherwise Cas might've banned him from driving it all together. It would've been a sin to let her fester in the garage so, of course, he relented. Ground rules _were _set but the little devils always still managed to worm their way around them. He forgave them, but he still couldn't hide his scowl whenever he saw the aftermath of long journeys.

He grips the steering wheel in front of him just a little tighter.

* * *

Before he knows it, he's speeding down the main road through Bedford Falls.

"Just a little faster" he tells himself.

Memories of the last week run through his head. Mistake after mistake that he knows for sure lead right back to him. This, he thinks, has been a long time coming.

He prepares to drive off the road, after checking to see that nobody is around with the words,

"It seems to me you're worth more dead than alive," spoken by a friend not so long ago.

He takes a sharp intake of breath before he even tries to set out with his plan. He can feel his hands shaking whilst wondering what Cas and the kids are doing. They were making decorations this morning. In his front pocket, he reaches carefully to take out a short piece of tinsel, bright red and overly glittery. He lets out a quiet chuckle before clutching it underneath his hand, which is now firmly back on the steering wheel.

He was doing it for them, wasn't he?

Then he accelerates into a tree ahead.

* * *

Not fast enough it seems.

He is dizzy but not dead. Dean groans quietly. A faint trickle of blood rolls down his chin from his lips but he pays no attention to it.

Slowly he stumbles out of the impact. The bodywork would be pristine if not for the large dent made by the tree which clearly made its presence known. He sighs. He wasn't meant to see her like this. He strokes over a scratch made by what he can presume made by a branch falling in the collision.

What now?

The dizziness seems overwhelming however something urges him to continue. It was the only thing he could do.

It could be a sign. It happened in the movies. A guy thinks that his life is over because everything is falling apart around him. They prepare to die but then by some twist of Hollywood fate a friend/ significant other comes, changes their mind, somehow everything is resolved and all other potential problems that linger are all mysteriously forgotten. It's a tonne of bullshit. He'd seen enough of those crappy films with Sammy to realise that.

He sees the bridge up ahead and with a half limp, half crawl sits on the edge with his legs dangling over the icy water. His back leant against the railings. Realising that life was in fact not like a Hollywood movie wasn't so much a discovery however it was a disappointment. If he couldn't believe that what else was there? He was pretty sure that if God was up there, he wouldn't care about him. He'd gone through enough shit in his life. Only a few dreams realised and even the one perfect thing he _did _have- his family, he had messed up.

"Go on, show me what I'll be missing," Dean whispered almost silently, "Because I'm sure as hell that it'll be bad no matter what you do. And in my experience you haven't done anything to help at all..."

* * *

_**Heaven**_

Clarence watched Dean Winchester quietly. If his suspicions were correct, Dean Winchester would be his next assignment.

For what seemed like millennia, he had tried to get his wings to qualify as a guardian angel. All he had to do was to change a human life for the better. He thought he had done a brilliant job last time, but apparently letting out a bull in a ceramic shop was not appropriate to help lower the competition for a humble shopkeeper whose calling was to create small wooden animals for his toy store. His rival across the street was driving him out of house and home so it seemed right that he should get some comeuppance. Apparently his actions went too far however now he had found himself with a second chance. Although his methods had been seen as unorthodox, Clarence was fixed upon helping this poor man.

Upon an earlier briefing, his garrison leader told to do a little research into Dean Winchester before meeting with him. It was seen as professional to know at least a few facts on the "Client"'s life before they tried to sort through the problems that they had to face. What Clarence was expecting, however, was far from what he uncovered with the information given to him.

At first glance, the man's file would seem no different to any other. Significant events to him, relatives, ambitions- all of which he saw on earlier files he had read before. However, although much looked the same, he knew that the information laid out before him was very little in comparison to living out the printed words set before him. These were the facts, not the hopes or dreams that may have been behind the choices that influenced them.

What instead intrigued him were a list of names. Names of the people Dean Winchester saved. Not all were grand acts but the sheer number of names was enough to shock. It wasn't often Clarence saw such a selfless being. It made him wonder what brought Dean to breaking point as he had seen. There was nobody as worthy as him to be helped and yet in his hour of great need, he was alone. From the papers in front of him, there seemed no reason for it. Yet only so much that's learnt from a file.

He needed to know more.

So instead, he put down the files and just watched Dean's life from almost the very beginning- when the first name on the list was saved- a young Sam Winchester- saved by Dean at a mere twelve years of age.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean knew it was a goddamn awful idea to let Sammy get that sled. He had been pestering since the beginning of November for one, even though there wasn't any snow by that point. Every day, after coming back from school or a hunt he'd ask and Dean would say no. Up until yesterday that is.

The thing was, he had been saving some money. He hadn't told Dad, that would've been idiotic. Ultimately, he knew that he wasn't going to spend it on himself; he just knew. It almost felt like a heavy weight in his back pocket. They could've used the money two weeks ago for food, but he didn't. Bobby wouldn't let him.

It was of course Bobby who gave him this money in the first place. It was a couple of months ago in the scrap yard. He had said to him, "Spend it on yourself, you understand me, boy" with his large hand on Dean's shoulder. A small smile was on his face but behind his eyes, Dean could recognise an element of concern which made him feel more guilty than he should have felt.

It was inevitable that he would spend his money on Sammy anyways.

This is what he reasoned as he approached the nearest shop that sold the glorified plastic bin lids. Dad was out on a Ruguru hunt and Sammy had fallen asleep in the motel room as soon as his head hit his pillow. He didn't even notice when Dean silently left the box room.

When he finally found a place that sold the sleds at a local hardware store, he quickly went inside and bought one. Sammy had been going on about how Jo had been given a bright red one by Ellen and he wanted an even better one. Dean realised looking at the very bare selection of sleds in front of him that, of course, there were only two colours. One, the aforementioned red sled and two, a block blue sled. He chose the blue one, paid with all the money Bobby had given him and left.

That night he prayed that it would snow before they moved onto the next motel. There was no way he could hide this monstrosity in the back of the impala...

To Dean's surprise, it snowed within the next two days. Overnight, the motel car lot turned from a grey, dull wasteland into what Sammy seemed to consider a "winter wonderland". Sam's point of excitement was so high at this particular moment that Dean was unsure how he would react when he told him about his recent purchase for him.

Dean, who had been watching even more of snow settling from his bed, whilst Sam was at the window, intent on following every single snowflake down to the ground with his eyes, threw a stray sock at his brother's back.

"Dean!", a frown had appeared on Sam's forehead that complimented his lips which were held together in a thin line. If he didn't act fast, he was either going to be viscously attacked by his nine year old brother or he was going to have to deal with him crying. Neither option was appealing.

"Hey, no. Don't pull that face at me. It was a sock not a clown or something!"

Dean smiled at his own comment, expecting Sam to join in too but in fact his expression had just formed into more of a pout. Dean continued,

"Ah yeah, sorry bit of a sore spot there... Anyway, I have something for you."

"Maybe I don't want it..." Sam mumbled quietly. He was now looking even further into the car lot, trying not to meet Dean's eyes. His knees rested slightly under his chin as his arms wrapped around his legs. He seemed unbelievably small at this point.

"Well I'm sorry to bother you then..." Dean said with fake conviction, "I'm sure me and Cas can go out on this awesome blue sled. I mean it's not really his thing but I'm sure he would go all the same. I'm sure I can get Bobby to drop him off here..."

Dean continued, getting up, picking up the sled, approaching the door slowly. In the corner of his eye he could see Sam perking up.

"Wait, Dean..."

"Yeah, Sammy"

"Can you take me as well? Cas can come as well but I'd really like to show Jo the sled."

Dean smiled gently and agreed on terms that Sammy agreed he was the best sibling that he could ask for.

Bobby did, eventually, agree to drop Cas off at the park. One of the perks of being in a motel less than half an hour from Bobby's house was that Dean was able to see one of the only friends he ever really made. Cas had lived nearly next door to Bobby for his whole life and Naomi, his mom, had helped him out on a few hunts. From what Dean heard from Bobby, she had an obsession with angels and it had come in useful occasionally. It was also the reason why Cas (or Castiel as she insisted Dean should call him) and his brothers were named after angels. She even went as far as naming her second child, Lucifer, which not only raised eyebrows in the neighbourhood, but also, in Dean's opinion, set him up for a fall later in life. Who would employ anyone named after Satan, he often thought to himself.

Anyway, the three boys set off soon after Bobby dropped Cas off. Dean did see a disapproving look aimed at him from Bobby as he saw him figure out how Dean bought the sled but he said nothing and told them to, "stop standing around like idjits".

Soon after Sam met up with Jo and left Cas and Dean alone. It was at this point that they finally started to talk.

"How's it been, Cas?"

"It's been fine, Dean, as usual."

Dean paused. He had known Cas for the better part of five years now. Things sounded bad.

"Has it been that awful?"

Cas turned around to look at him the eye but he couldn't hold the eye contact. Instead he looked at the ground and kicked the snow beneath his feet.

"You can tell?"

"Of course I can, best friends, aren't we? Is Naomi pushing for piano lessons again? Because, really, you can say no-"

"No, no, it's not." Cas sighed and kicked the snow again, "Lucifer and Michael have been fighting again..."

"Oh no not the devil child-"

"Don't." Cas stopped Dean before he could continue, trying to hide his smile that disappeared once he started talking again.

"They came in last night with black eyes because they'd been fighting. It was awful, Dean. Michael's afraid that Luke is 'associating with the witches' again. He doesn't even like them..."

Concerned, Dean laid a hand on his friend's back and drew him into a quick hug.

"It'll be okay, you do realise, right?"

"Yeah, I know but-"

Cas was interrupted by a shrill scream. The two boys looked at each other for a brief moment before running towards the sound.

What they found brought Dean to a grinding halt. Jo was at the bank of a small pond which had frozen over the past week. From what Dean and Cas could tell they had been sliding down the bank onto the ice for a good ten minutes but something had gone wrong.

Sam was in the water.

A hole was now present in the white opaque ice and Sam was hardly floating above the water that was around him. Without thinking, Dean jumped in to retrieve him. He didn't realise how cold it was.

He remembered that it didn't take long for him to lift Sam out. Dad would have killed him if he did anything less. What he doesn't remember is how Cas managed to get him out and at what point he realised that he couldn't hear out of his left ear.


End file.
